Part 4

“Friend?”

That was all that was said. A single word, tinged with a sense of curiosity and caution. And the speaker?

To Peter, it was all too obvious, but to Drake’s eyes, it looked remarkably like himself, if less… evolved, to put a word to it.

A Kobold. That was the creature that tentatively peeked its head over the bushes. It had a somewhat ruddy complexion, and it was considerably more mixed in coloration than Drake. Closer to the color between red clay and mud than any pure color. The snout was also more rounded, and the horns emerged from the back of their head weren’t draconic in any fashion, them being mere sticks in comparison to his own. Despite all this though, Drake and the Kobold were remarkably similar, if… only in appearance.

“It’s so tiny.”

Drake was almost smiling, given the stature of the creature in front of him. It stood under half his size, little more than a human child. The obvious comparison almost led him to instinctually treat them as just that, until he noticed the inconspicuous dagger hidden at the Kobold’s side, well hidden by the brush of the bush it emerged from.

“D-drake… you must keep them from me.”

The frightened voice of the Nymph, Emeria, emerged from behind him. Peter wasn’t far behind, quickly moving to grab his gear the moment it emerged, only for the both of them to be quickly shouted down by a quick telepathic warning from Drake.

[Don’t move. The both of you.]

It was quick, but effective. The both of them froze, however, Peter only seemed to grow more incredulous by the moment, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Drake shook his head. He had suffered more than a few bad experiences regarding other creatures, apparently.

[They asked if we were friends. Calm down.]

The intake of breath from Peter was sharp, and unsteady, as if he was ready to jump at any moment. Well, he was already nervous to begin with. It wasn’t all that surprising that he would attempt to go for his weapon. Just that doing so might easily cause the others that surrounded the camp, but hadn’t moved, to attack. Drake spread his hands wide, as if to invite the small Kobold. Then, he took a gamble.

“Of course, we can be friends. Although, why did you approach? I understand it can be dangerous this time of night.”

He spoke, in the only language that was available to him. One that was utterly unintelligible to both Emeria and Peter but had been as clear as the sky was blue when he had conversed with the Wyvern so long ago. A language he could only guess the name for but settled for a simple word.

Draconic.

Friend. The short murmur that went through the surrounding wood line was short-lived. Drake stared around, then bit the inside of his lip.

“Well, do you have a name? It’s good for friends to share names.”

The Kobold stared, merely tilting its head to the side slightly, much like a dog would if it was confused. Then, it spoke.

“Splat.” It shook its head approvingly, as it bared a toothy smile.

“Splat? Would that be your… name?”

A heavy nod, full of that same enthusiastic energy from before.

“Splat is good name. Rocks fall, and annoying Kobold go splat. Good sound for a name.”

“…”

Drake froze, wide-eyed. It wasn’t out of fear, or even shock. It was just that, in a dark and somewhat twisted manner… it was possibly one of the funniest things he had heard in a long time.

He shook only slightly, a wide smile plastered across his face as he stifled the laughter deep in his stomach. He continued, slowly.

“I see,” he breathed in deeply, keeping his face locked in place to avoid breaking out into laughter. He wasn’t exactly huge on monster etiquette, but even he knew that laughing at someone’s name they chose would be more than a little insulting.

“Well, my name is Drake. It’s good to meet you, Splat.”

“Drake?” The Kobold cocked its head to the side once again, as if in confusion. “How are you a Drake?”

“No. I mean… Drake. Like, well…” He paused, bewildered at the strange turn. “How are you a Splat, then?”

The two looked to one another. Then, a light seemed to go off in the Kobold’s head, as it shook its head approvingly.

“Splat sees. Good. You strong, then.”

“Right…”

What more could he really say to that? While intelligent, it seemed as if the… intelligence of the Kobold wasn’t exactly up to par, so to speak. What kind of conclusion it had reached in that child-like nod of approval; even Drake couldn’t dissect it easily.

“So, what are you here for exactly, Splat? As I said before, it can be dangerous at this time of night. Especially for one your size.”

“Hm. Hm. Splat sees your worry, friend. No worries! We are silent and sneaky. We only lose three Kobold in the past week!”

“…”

He went silent again.

“Uh… Splat, how old are you exactly?”

The confidence and pride of the small Kobold seemed to swell up at the question, it’s tail swishing from side to side in the leafy underbrush of the forest, before confidently stating…

“Eleven.”

“Eleven…” Drake stared.

“Hm.” The Kobold nodded. “It quite the accomplishment. Splat growing to be quite the Kobold.”

“…”

Drake only stared, dumbstruck. The sudden change in demeanor was even noticeable by Peter and Emeria, with the Kobold only smugly standing with its arms crossed together, while Drake’s shoulders seemed to drop slightly due to sheer bewilderment.

“You mean to say… Eleven days, don’t you?”

“Hm? Yes. No Kobold ever grown to Eleven months. Even the eggs Kobold grow from hatch in few months. Oldest Kobold work hard to protect us to that point. We doing well.” Splat said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing.

Of course it is…He suppressed a sigh. Eleven… given that not even he had been transformed for eleven months, the answer was all too obvious, but still, to hear it out of the Kobold’s mouth in such a proud voice.

Drake grumbled. They didn’t seem malicious. Overall, they even seemed quite innocent, despite the obvious signs that others of this Kobold’s group surrounding the encampment. At the very least, they weren’t dangerous. Not to those like Peter and himself. Could it be they came purely for Emeria? It was doubtful they followed him from the southern reaches of the forest, where the Nymph’s congregated… rather, didn’t Peter say himself that Kobold’s resided in the northern region? So, were they here for Peter?

“Splat…” Drake said in a somewhat reluctant tone, letting the name sit on his tongue for a moment. It had avoided his question each time, merely opting to answer in another way, almost as if it was deflecting.

“What are you here for?” He simply stated.

“That…” The Kobold started, only for Drake to witness a steady transformation overcome the face of the small Kobold.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The somewhat prideful demeanor stopped altogether. Slowly, the Kobold sank one of its hands to the dagger at its side and became consumed with a more calculating attitude.

“We… here to scout.” The Kobold began. “Home getting dangerous. Tricky birds. We smelled another like us, so we investigate. Team up if there another tribe.”

The Kobold’s gaze wandered over to Peter and Emeria. Drake didn’t like how its eyes seemed to rest on the Nymph for longer than necessary, either. Then, just as quickly, the eyes of the Kobold settled on Drake.

“No Kobolds here. Only you.”

A mask of realization crossed his face, as he gauged the Kobold’s response. In return, only a single thought could cross his mind.

So, that was it.

Whether he realized it or not, the Kobolds were even gathering information on him by avoiding the answer until the last moment, all in an attempt to gauge what the right decision would be.

They wanted him… He should have seen it sooner. They approached quick and silent, only barely being caught by the faint telepathic sense he inherited from Yami. They were full of negative emotions at the time, so he had quickly transformed to meet their advance. He had even prepared for a fight, but from the moment the Kobold saw Drake transform, their words gave away their intention.

Friend.

Drake chuckled. Despite the Kobold’s age, and obvious lack of experience with those like him, it was crafty. No doubt they were excited. After all, he had so generously brought a Nymph from the opposite side of the forest, closer than they would ever be able to find otherwise. What’s more, even the meager resources Peter had built up would no doubt be appealing to a race that survived every day like it was their last. It would have been too good to pass up.

But, from the moment he had transformed, and into a creature that was so similar to themselves no less, they had second thoughts. That, and no doubt they sensed his aura as well.

Drake was strangely happy, in a way. This body of his, what had made him an outcast from his own race, made it easy to get along with those who would only attack him at any other opportunity.

“Heh.” He couldn’t help but voice this small pleasure.

The Kobolds. They were similar to him, physically. Moreover, their lack of intelligence and relatively small stature left very little threat open to himself or Peter. However, that same intelligence might prove to be a problem. They might view him as friendly, but to those behind him? To actually prevent them from attacking left very few options, and most importantly, it left…

Emeria…

He couldn’t protect the Nymph from all directions and opening himself up to danger by covering her with his mana over more than a few seconds carried its own problems. Not least of which included overexposure.

He looked at Peter. He was brand new to his powers, and the Nymph would undoubtedly be of more help than he could ever be. Their powers were polar opposites, and the most he could do was reinforce any progress Peter had made with how quickly he could negate Drake’s own power. No, the choice was simple.

Drake shook his head. “You want help, don’t you?”

It was simple. He had to leave.

The Kobold startled.

“You… Offer help?”

He shrugged. Call it a whim, but he felt that these Kobolds could be more useful than at first thought. At eleven days old, the speaker was already remarkably developed. If the intelligence was more a flaw given their sheer underdevelopment…

That wasn’t something he felt he needed to say, however.

“You’re among the first in this place to not outright attack or run away the moment you saw me. That’s reason enough, isn’t it?”

Drake gave a wide smile. That much was the truth, at least. The Kobold shook its head with a wide-eyed look in return, seemingly eager to reciprocate.

“However, only on one condition.”

The Kobold tilted its head to the side, before shaking its head once. A clear sign to continue.

“The two behind me, the Nymph and the one in armor, they’re entirely off limits. Any action against them is the same as against me.”

A quick nod came from the Kobold. “Hm. Not much of a loss. We will no doubt agree wholly.”

“Good,” Drake returned the gesture. “Tell the others to back down. I need to take a moment.”

“Ooooh. Yes. Of course.”

A high-pitched call resounded in the air from the Kobold, as a spattering of movement rustled in the trees surrounding them, with Drake warning both Emeria and Peter with a look at the same moment. Then, one by one, heads began to emerge. One… two… more and more kept appearing, until seven more heads emerged from the surrounding forest’s edge.

Talk about surrounded. He grinned to himself. Now…

A mist surrounded Drake, leaving him in his semi-human form. Drake hesitated. All eyes were on him now, both his own team and the Kobold’s.

“Well, Peter. It’s been fun.”

He trailed off. The expression he gave was out of place for the situation, almost as if he regretted it. As a result, Peter looked at him anxiously, seemingly aware that Drake had struck some sort of deal in those brief minutes.

“I’m leaving you with Emeria. And, I’ll be leaving with the Kobolds.”

“…”

Peter didn’t reply, not at first. He simply froze, as different emotions flashed over his face, after the other. Then, he stumbled forward, a note of heat entering his voice.

“You’re joking. You… You just got back!”

Drake was surprised. They hadn’t been especially close, at least in his eyes. But Peter made himself clear.

“So, what…” He paused, his anger flaring up further. “You’re just gonna leave with these things? You were supposed to help… and finally get me out of this place…” He muttered.

“This… godforsaken place…”

Peter’s eyes flicked as he took a quick glance at the Nymph at his side. Drake had no bearing of how he actually viewed the young girl, but the look in his eyes.

It was all too clear. He despised being kept here.

Drake stared from Peter to Emeria, his lips pursed shut. He was far, far from being able to reciprocate those kinds of feelings at the moment. Rather, if he wasn’t careful, he’d sooner start a fight than meaningfully help the man at all.

“Haa…” Drake frowned. Then, he shrugged. “Truth is, there’s not much I can do.”

“Do you think you could beat that giant, or whatever, right now? Given what you know, and what you can do?”

Peter frowned. He even opened his mouth to speak, only to stop altogether a second later.

“See?” Drake cocked his head to the side. “You barely have control over your powers. Hell, could you even beat me?”

Peter clenched both of his fists, his eyes staring straight ahead into Drake’s own.

“… I have to do something.” He muttered. “If I just stay here, like I have been, I’ll never be able to leave. I’ll just flounder around with a power I can’t understand, in a place I can’t even leave, like I always have!

“Peter…” He hesitated

“I mean look at you. Speaking with outright monsters, bargaining with them for Christ sake. And now you’re leaving with them? Drake, the things out here, they will kill you. These Kobolds, will kill you if they get the chance.”

Peter raised his voice. He walked forward, amidst the small crowd of monsters surrounding the both of them and glanced to his side as he waved to the others.

“The little buggers look weak, but they’re some of the worst out here when it comes to booby traps.” He spat. “Night is their time to shine. Even chasing them down can get you killed easily, let alone following them!”

Drake turned his head towards the Kobolds, then towards the frightened Nymph. He frowned. Could the Kobolds be deceitful? Maybe. Still… that didn’t change who they were. A lowly race that might as well have been on the bottom of the food chain, struggling to survive. That they used traps seemed to fit them quite well actually. If he was in the same position… he would do whatever he could, just as they did.

“Is Emeria so different?”

Peter hesitated. He frowned and glanced back towards the Nymph. He clenched his fist as he seemed to contemplate something, before quickly shaking his head of whatever thought seemed to plague him. He was already predicting the flow this conversation.

“Maybe not today. Maybe not even tomorrow. But, you can’t trust them, Drake. Please.”

“Trust is always earned.”

Drake shot Peter a weary look.

“Same as you. Same as with Yami to some extent. I’ve met others, Peter. Every one of them took time for me to get acquainted with. Just as I did with Morgan and Luke. It’s not as if these Kobolds are the most dangerous group I’ve come across, either. I can take care of myself.”

“Drake…” He pleaded.

“You’ve done well, here in this cavern. Honestly. I couldn’t have done what you have.”

Drake breathed in a heavy breath, as simply looked to Peter. He had been alone for what, weeks? Trapped in something akin to a survival game. Either he survived and escaped with his newfound power, or died in the process, after only gaining that power once he watched each one of his friends disappear in front of his eyes.

Luke may have escaped, given Aesir’s generosity but Morgan? Even Peter knew she was underground, trapped.

Still, he could imagine what Peter was going through. Regardless…

“I’m sorry. I… can’t will myself to just stay still any longer. Not while she’s trapped underground.”

She? Peter scrunched his face in confusion.

“You mean, the Imp that was trying to save you. She’s underground as well?”

Peter startled. It was a niggling suspicion in the back of his mind, but the sense of forced movement and over-exertion Drake had about him. He had thought it curious that the Imp who was so concerned over his wellbeing had abandoned Drake, but…

“Hm. Alongside Morgan, no doubt by now. I saw her underground too, by the way. Whatever curse she was under when she was dragged underground after the Fomorian got her was gone completely by the came I came upon her.”

Drake waved his hand, shaking his head all the while.

“She’ll be given back, of course. Both of them. All under the condition that I beat this place.” He said solemnly.

Peter stalled. All the heat and force behind his conviction seemed to simply seep out of him, like an open sieve. Morgan was alive and well, and Drake had been moving to help her all along. Moving to get him free of this dungeon.

“I didn’t know. I had just assumed-”

“And I didn’t tell you.” Drake shook his head. “It’s how I live my life. Could I change anything if I spoke about it? Would it bring her up from the ground, and back to me?”

“No. Not at all.” He laughed miserably. “Better to look for solutions. And I’ll be damned if I pass one up like this.”

Peter blinked. Solutions? From the Kobolds?

Drake continued, “Listen. Stay with Emeria. She’s the best I can do for you, Peter, honest. I’m no good to you. We’d just get in each other’s way, or worse.”

He shook his head. No, it was best that he be alone as well. Neither Peter nor the Nymph would appreciate what he was going to attempt.

“So…”

Peter hesitated. It was true, he did bring back the Nymph to help. Regardless, it all hinged on one crucial point.

“-So, we’ll work together then, at least. To leave here?”

Drake joked, “What, you didn’t think I was just gonna leave you altogether, did ya?”

“No… I just-” Peter hesitated, then smiled in return. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

—-

Drake faintly smiled. Then, he turned to the Kobolds. Yami was no longer beside him, and now he was leaving the one other friend he had in this dungeon. And he knew that it would only get harder from here. Getting through the forest to the Kobold’s home. Learning and preparing for what was to come. Or, conversely, what he would inevitably discover to be impossible to accomplish.

It didn’t matter. What did matter, was a realization he had. A positive feeling, although it had just a glimmer of opportunity.

Pieces were starting to come together.